Another Thing to Deal With
by abs2711
Summary: Merlin already has enough to deal with- his own guilt at his past failures, making sure Arthur doesn't die- and now, a new threat has risen. Things just get harder for the poor guy, and now he's really struggling to keep his secret safe.


_So, I got this weird idea, and it was originally going to be a one-shot about Merlin having a horrible day, but then it kind of kept on going. I'm guessing it'll be around 3 chapters. Enjoy :)_

* * *

His eyes widened. Since when had they had a swamp? Since when were there any _crocodiles_ in Camelot?

It was _huge_. Like, four-times-Arthur huge, since four-times-Merlin wasn't very big. Yeah, he was aware of how scrawny he was. How something that large had managed to conceal itself in three-inch water, he didn't know, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to go up and ask it its life story.

And of course, right now that huge-ass crocodile was trying to eat_ his_ scrawny-ass. Why did it want to eat _him_? Surely he was too small to be much of a meal, though he supposed everything was too small to be much of a meal for the beast. That didn't really reassure him.

He groaned. Why did stuff like this happen to him? He already had enough on his plate without also having to get past a crocodile. Although, when he thought about it, it could be an alligator. He wasn't quite sure what the difference was.

It would be better to not kill it because the only way he could do that was with magic, and he was hesitant to kill anything or even use it, even if he was far enough from Camelot to not be seen. There were too many things that could go wrong, so he'd just have to somehow outsmart the thing and get away.

Yeah, he'd managed to get himself trapped. Today was one of the few days that he'd had a day off, and he hadn't known what to do with himself so he'd gone out wandering. Lost in his thoughts, he'd fallen down a small incline and landed in a swamp that had seemingly suddenly appeared, with the beast lurking under the surface.

"Nice crocodile," he put his hands up. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you. Now, I'm just going to go-" his attempt at leaving halted abruptly when the creature growled, moving forward faster than he thought possible for such a large object.

He decided to give up trying to convince it that he wasn't _that_ tasty and turned around to run. Where he was going to run, he had no idea, but he figured as long as it was _away_ from that thing he'd be okay.

Apparently, the crocodile didn't like the fact that its supper was leaving.

He could hear it behind him- something _that_ big had to make _some_ noise- and unfortunately it sounded like it was gaining fast.

The murky water was hard to move through, and with every step his foot sunk into the mud and came out again with a reluctant _ker-plop_.

_Well_, he thought, _there goes_ that_ pair of boots._

And then his clumsiness finally caught up to him, and his boot decided it'd had enough and stuck fast in the mud. He fell, unable to help but cry out as his ankle twisted painfully.

He pulled his foot out of the boot, abandoning it to the mercies of the swamp and struggled up to face the crocodile. Its yellow eyes stared him down, and he felt a little paralyzed. This wasn't a natural crocodile, was it? He'd never seen, nor heard of a crocodile in Camelot. Someone had probably created it and this swamp in the middle of a forest.

Then, he realized something- it must be guarding something. Why else would it be here? It's not like it had just wandered over from wherever it had been before so it could have more food.

But he decided he'd think more about it later. Right now, his main focus should be on _staying_ _alive_ long enough to figure it out.

He closed his eyes shut for a moment, sighing. There was no other way. He'd have to use magic.

So much for outsmarting the thing.

Opening his eyes again, he threw up his hands. He'd put on a temporary paralyzing spell, one that would last long enough for him to get away.

As soon as the beast had frozen- right above him with it's jaws open wide enough to swallow him whole, because he had trouble remembering the spell for a few terrifying seconds- he had turned around and ran, ignoring his throbbing ankle because he had _no_ idea how long the spell would last or how fast the magical beast was.

He stopped abruptly when he bashed his head into something, stumbling back. He hadn't run in a circle, had he? Ran straight back to the crocodile and ran into it?

Blinking to clear his vision a little, he sighed a little in weariness and relief. Nope, just a tree.

He squinted, looking around him in an attempt to try and figure out which way Camelot was, but it was no use. It was too dark, too late to be doing these kinds of things. He should be at home resting, but what was he doing? Banging his head against trees because he couldn't see, while running around with a bum ankle.

He had been running for _at least_ three quarters of an hour. Maybe even an hour.

Lying down on the ground (probably closer to collapsing), he realized how utterly exhausted he was. He'd get a night of sleep, and figure out how to get back in the morning.

* * *

Merlin groaned. Why did everything ache? His ankle, and head. His throat was dry. And he was _really_ hungry.

When he opened his eyes, squinting at how bright it suddenly was, he tried to suppress another groan. Oh yeah, _that _had happened.

Struggling up, he squinted at the sun, trying to determine his location. It was probably mid-morning, meaning that Camelot was east.

The complete opposite way that he'd ran.

He'd spent half a day wandering before he'd stumbled across the crocodile, and then another hour of running. So it would take him about three quarters of a day to get back with his injured ankle.

Fantastic.

He started to limp back, making sure that when he got to the swamp to skirt at least a mile around it. He wasn't taking any chances.

Of course, that only added another hour to his trek.

By the time he had finally gotten back to Camelot, it was the middle of the night. He was hungry, tired, thirsty, his head _ached_, and by now he had stumbled so many times that every time he put any weight on his bad ankle a flare of pain shot up his leg.

The guards at the gate narrowed their eyes suspiciously at him, squinting in the dark to try and make out his face.

"Who goes there?"

"My name's Merlin," he croaked. "I'm the king's manservant." He was swaying. Why couldn't he stand still? Everything was spinning now. It almost felt as if the gravity had been turned down a bit.

"Merlin? The king has been looking for you all day!"

"Sorry I'm late," he slurred, and then he passed out.

* * *

Merlin scrunched his eyes. It was dark, and his head hurt. Why did his head hurt?

Oh yeah, he had met the crocodile from Hell. How could he forget that magnificent experience?

"Merlin?" a familiar voice asked tentatively.

His voice was painfully thin. "Gaius?"

"Merlin!" a shout, one that made his head pound slightly at the volume. "What happened to you? Where did you go? How did you manage to hurt yourself on a day off, you idiot!"

He opened his eyes, squinting and blinking as the figures slowly came into focus and lurching back a little when he realized how close Arthur was- immediately regretting the action when his head pounded.

"Arthur," he groaned. "Shut up."

"If you're not too _injured_ to recall, Merlin, I am your king. You cannot tell me to shut up."

"I just did."

"Merlin!"

"Arthur," Gaius interjected. "Give the boy some space. Merlin, do you remember what happened?"

Merlin said, a little indignantly, "Of course I do! How hard do you think I was hit in the head?"

"You were attacked?" Arthur asked.

Merlin closed his eyes again. His head hurt too much, and his voice was too raspy to explain it all. It hurt to talk.

"Gaius? Water please."

He quickly handed him the cup that had been sitting on the table next to him, and Merlin felt his cheeks heat slightly at the obviousness of it. His hands shook as he brought the cup to his lips, and he drank it all in one breath.

"Thanks," he said. His eyes were drooping again, and his head was pounding. He shifted a little, wincing when a flare of pain shot from his ankle.

"_Merlin_. Tell me what happened." Merlin sighed. There was no getting out of this. If he gave into his drooping eyes, Arthur would just shake him awake and smack him repeatedly until he explained.

"I fell into a swamp. There was a big-ass crocodile. My boot got stuck in the mud. I twisted my ankle, and I ran away. Can I go to sleep now?"

He didn't wait for an answer though, instead sagging into his pillow and gratefully let himself fade away from the aches and annoyingly bright sunlight.

* * *

"But a crocodile, Gaius? What was that about?"

Gaius shook his head. "We'll just have to wait until Merlin wakes. He's obviously been through a lot, and he needs his rest."

Arthur nodded absently, his thoughts bouncing around his head.

Why in the world was there a _crocodile_ in Camelot? They usually only resided in the swamps to the south, and apparently one was within walking distance. And of course, Merlin had been the one to stumble upon it.

His gaze shifted to the boy. He looked a mess. Twigs and dirt in his hair, mud smeared on his face. A boot was missing, his hands were filthy, and he was covered in nicks and scratches.

Sighing, he sat back down in the chair next to the cot Merlin was sleeping on. He had a strange look when he was sleeping, kind of innocent but also old, exhausted. The shadows were prominent under his eyes.

What had he gone through to get that look on his face as he slept? Suddenly he was irritated-the idiot couldn't even take care of himself for a day. Whenever he had a day off, he went the tavern or got hurt. Why couldn't he just stay out of trouble? It would definitely make his life a little bit easier.

* * *

His dreams were a scattered mess of disorientation and confusion. He saw the worried face of Arthur, also a little angry, and Merlin resigned himself to standing there as he yelled. But, just as he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes changed into the fierce yellow of the crocodile. He was back in the swamp, but this time it was dusk and the only thing he could see were the beast's eyes, like the brightest candle he had ever seen floating in midair.

The creature reared up, and Merlin scrambled back in terror as it roared high above him. There was a deep laughter in the background, and it echoed and bounced around his skull. He took a moment to locate the source and he found himself more terrified of the figure than the beast above him.

It stood tall, a dark cloak swirling ominously around it, and when it spoke chills raced down Merlin's spine.

_The time has come, Emrys. You and your precious kingdom will fall, and I will rein forever more._

"Merlin!"

He jolted awake at the shout, sweaty and shaky. It took him a moment to get past the disorientation, blinking to clear the spots from his vision and swaying from the sudden blood rush.

"You were yelling in your sleep, and you wouldn't wake. What were you dreaming about?"

He shook his head. What had it meant? Or, more importantly, how was that figure going to keep his promise? _You and your precious kingdom will fall, and I will rein forever more._ He shivered at the memory of the voice.

Realizing Arthur was trying to get his attention again, he tried to focus.

"Merlin!" His voice was kind of panicky, and Merlin distantly wondered how long he had been trying to get a response.

"Arthur! Stop yelling, I'm right here."

He scowled. "For the last time, _Merlin_, you cannot tell me what to do. I'm your king." But he didn't sound very irritated. "What happened? And where did you find a crocodile?"

Merlin frowned. "Well, how am I supposed to know? I was just wandering, and then all of a sudden there was a swamp and I was trapped, and then the big-ass crocodile appeared. Everything after that is kind of hazy. It wasn't natural, Arthur. The swamp and crocodile."

Arthur frowned. "So, you're saying that you think a sorcerer conjured a crocodile and a swamp in the forests outside of Camelot? Why would anyone be stupid enough to do that?"

His brow creased in thought. That was something that had been bothering him the whole walk home, when he wasn't focusing on not tripping over something.

He thought back to his dream, and his eyes widened in realization. That person had known he was Emrys- which means it had been a trap. Some sorcerer had set a damn _trap_ for him, and knew he was Emrys. He felt himself slightly panicking at the thought. Someone knew about him!

What in the world was that trap supposed to accomplish?

_You and your precious kingdom will fall, and I will rein forever more._

He decided to make a list for himself, on what he could figure out from it all. So, there was an evil sorcerer who knew he was Emrys, and he had set a trap for him and conjured a big-ass crocodile to scare the living daylights out of him. He had sent him a dream message- he hadn't even known that was possible until now- and he was going to take over Camelot and, he assumed from the _I will rein forever_ statement, that he had somehow found a way to cheat death.

_An immortal sorcerer_, he thought.

_Well,_ _this should be fun._


End file.
